


One Wedding and One Misgiving

by Reyn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Leather, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyn/pseuds/Reyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wanna see an AU where Merlin is the prince of Dragonlords (lol yeah fantasy) and he gets an arranged marriage to Arthur, Prince of Camelot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Wedding and One Misgiving

Judging from the way his attendants made aborted movements forward, Merlin would have to guess that he paled even more than anyone believed possible.

"I can’t do this," he breathed faintly, staring at himself in the mirror. "What was I thinking, letting you talk me into this. I cannot do this."

His father’s shoulders slumped beneath the thick fur of his cloak.

"Merlin, we’ve been through this. While no sire can come from this marriage, it will still be beneficial to both ours and the kingdom of Camelot. Our population can no longer be contained in these borders alone. The dragons need the extra land that will come of this arrangement."

"No, no! I get that! I do!" Merlin insisted, staring wide-eyed at his father through the full length mirror. "But that’s completely beside my point."

Thick eyebrows sloped in confusion as Balinor failed to see what other possible points there could be.

"Are you serious?" Merlin turned away from the mirror to properly face the king. "Look at me!"

Balinor dragged his eyes over his son’s wedding garments. Made predominantly of treated, ancient dragon hide, he thought the leather lacing up the side of the pants was a nice touch. And while one would normally wear a shirt under the vest, this was a summer wedding. A shirt would be too hot under the cape, even if the cloak  _was_  made out of the softest dragon’s wing in all the land.

Merlin himself was, of course, as dashing as always. His dark, thick hair had been properly trimmed for the occasion. He had Hunith’s perfect smile that could light up any room he was in, not that it was showing at the moment. He was lacking a beard, but that would surely come with age. So would further muscle tone.

"You look like a worthy enough suitor," he stated approvingly. "Is that what this is about? Because in my opinion, you’re far too good for that Arthur boy—"

"I look like one of the erotic fetish doms from the brothels on the edges of our kingdom!" Merlin didn’t squeak, but it was a close call. "We don’t even know for sure if Arthur is attracted to men, and I’m pretty sure this—" he waved both hands at his attire "—will be more than enough to scare him off the notion."

Balinor sputtered and the attendants took that as their cue to leave. Two Dragonlords arguing tended to have disastrous results, if the last great fire was anything to go by. The fight had unfortunately taken place in one of the kingdom’s main fields, leading to half the crops burning to a crisp. Hunith had been beside herself with fury and both men had been banned from so much as speaking for a week.

"These are traditional garbs that represent our high standing amongst the dragons themselves. They demand respect and—"

"Ha!" Merlin pointed an accusing finger at his father. "You’re a liar."

"What!"

"You." The finger wiggled about. "Are. A. Liar! I’ve seen the paintings of your wedding with mum and your clothes look nothing like this."

"Well, of course not. I was talking about the material. Yours have been updated for the fashion trends of your age."

"When have you ever seen me wearing anything that even remotely resembles this?"

Balinor’s mouth opened before he actually stopped and thought about his answer. His son had a very strong point. That didn’t mean he had to like it, though. Their goal was to impress, and even Merlin had to admit it was a  _very_ impressive ensemble.

"Fine. Add a shirt. I don’t care. It’s not like I’m the one who’s going to be dying of heat exhaustion at his own wedding." He stormed towards the chamber doors. "Let us hope your future husband has the strength to carry you up every last flight of stairs to your room after you pass out at the ceremony!"

The doors flew open with a bang as Balinor stomped out, and stayed open as Hunith rushed in, a bucket of water in her hand. Upon seeing that no immediate fires needed to be put out, she placed the bucket down and hurried toward her son.

"Merlin, dear, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing." Merlin’s voice was deceptively light. "Absolutely nothing. I’m getting married in twenty-four hours, I’m happy, the dragons are happy, Camelot’s happy, there’s nothing wrong here except for this outfit, which is more appropriate for my wedding  _night_  instead of my wedding  _day_.”

Hunith drew back as she took the time to notice Merlin’s clothes. “Oh.  _Oh_.”

Merlin’s face fell at the look he was being subjected to.

"Not helping, mum."

"Right. Well, if it makes you feel any better, you don’t necessarily look  _bad_ …maybe if you had a shirt. Or a hat.”

"How is a hat supposed to help me?"

"It’s an outdoor ceremony," Hunith explained patiently. "We wouldn’t want you to burn."

Merlin threw his hands in the air. “Great. Thanks for your concern. Maybe I’ll just walk down the aisle with a sheet over my head. I’m sure that will solve all my problems.”

"Stop it." Hunith stepped forward and tugged at the lapels of Merlin’s vest. "We’ll definitely get you a shirt to go under this. I just know Prince Arthur will take one look at you tomorrow and consider himself to be the luckiest man in the world."

Turning to once again face the mirror at his mother’s prompting, Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, maybe if his tastes ran a bit extreme. Think I should attach a whip to my belt to complete the look? If we’re lucky, I can give King Uther a heart attack tomorrow.”

Hunith smacked Merlin’s arm. “Behave. You’ll be living with the King soon enough. You will have plenty of time to aggravate him after all the treaties have been signed. Now,” the smile that crossed Hunith’s face instantly had Merlin on guard, “tell me what you think about the prince.”

"He’s a twat," Merlin immediately answered, his expression unamused. But then his eyebrows rose and he looked thoughtful as he decided to humor his mother. "But I guess that’s only when no one’s looking, not that he and I were alone together at any point in time. Definitely not when we got stuck in the stables when it was raining." He refused to meet his mother’s eyes. "He’s smart when it comes to politics. He cares about his people. His heart definitely seems to be in the right place, not that I would really know about that or anything." Merlin shrugged. "The dragons all speak highly of him."

"The dragons," Hunith echoed. "I was asking what you thought, not the dragons."

"He’s good with a sword? He likes hunting?" Merlin could feel himself cracking under his mother’s stare. "He’s muscular from training with his knights? He’s…pretty, I suppose, if you’re so desperate for a physical description."

Hunith’s laughter caused Merlin to jump, even as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

After waiting several, impatient seconds, Merlin could feel his patience wearing thin. “What?” he demanded. “What did I say?”

"Oh, Merlin." Hunith’s voice was so full of fondness that Merlin felt like he was a little boy again, even as she reached up to cup his face with her hands. "Don’t ever let Prince Arthur know you called him ‘pretty’. He’ll consider it an affront to his manliness. And if he ever calls you pretty, you have my permission to punch him square on the nose."

Merlin frowned. “Why would I want to punch my future husband?”

Hunith’s soft smile turned sharp. “Oh, I promise you there will be far too many reasons to count as you two grow old together. But I do know this. If the prince is enough of a gentleman to keep whatever true thoughts he may have about your outfit to himself, at least until you two are alone and drifting off into sleep, then I know your marriage will be a happy one.”

Kissing Merlin gently on his jaw, Hunith turned and picked up her bucket of water, leaving her son to ponder over her advice.

-+-

Merlin wondered if it was physically possible for one to explode from feeling too many emotions at once. His brain was in far too much of a jumble to properly sort them out and name them all, but right now, the biggest one would have to be embarrassment.

He had been granted a long sleeved shirt to wear under his vest, but the material was so light and airy that it was practically sheer, completely destroying the original purpose Merlin had wanted it for. It was absolutely humiliating, walking up the aisle with everyone’s gaze on him. He was pretty certain the people of Camelot didn’t have eyes that big, or faces that naturally looked that stricken. It took an incredible amount of willpower to not adjust his cape to cover as much as himself as possible.

It certainly helped that up ahead, as Arthur walked down the aisle to meet him halfway, he looked nothing short of proud, as did Merlin’s parents, which helped him keep his head high.

"Prince Arthur." Merlin bent at the waist just enough to be considered a bow. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as Arthur bowed far lower.

"Merlin." Arthur straightened and took his place by Merlin’s side, accompanying him the rest of the way to the podium.

After several steps, Merlin noticed that despite his head remaining forward and his chin held high, Arthur’s eyes kept flickering over to him.

"Alright, out with it."

Arthur chose to feign innocence. “What?”

Merlin ignored it. “I’m warning you now, though, while I can handle whatever opinion you may have right now, if you laugh, the very dragons themselves will be offended.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose and his eyes locked forward. “I wasn’t going to laugh.”

Merlin snorted.

"I wasn’t!" Arthur insisted. "It’s just—you look very…"

"If you say pretty, I’ve been given permission to punch you." Merlin offered a shrug at the look of disbelief he was now being subjected to. "Just saying."

"Am I going to be allowed to have any sort of opinion in this relationship?"

Hunith’s words echoed in Merlin’s memory. “Only tonight in bed, and only if you’re good.” At Arthur’s choked back bark of laughter, Merlin’s face fell in horror. “That didn’t sound nearly as wrong in my head. Especially because in my head I’m not wearing this outfit. And I can’t believe I just said that on top of everything else. Are you sure you want to marry me?”

Arthur wisely remained silent, choosing instead to thread his fingers together with Merlin’s as they climbed the few steps of the podium together, giving Merlin’s hand a reassuring squeeze as they were instructed to kneel before their fathers and kings.

Taking a deep breath to calm his frazzled nerves, Merlin gave Arthur a belated squeeze back, figuring maybe today wouldn’t be so painful after all.

_THE END._

**Author's Note:**

> You can see a few other Merlin pieces I've written [here](http://ahjareyn.tumblr.com/tagged/reyn-writes-merlin)


End file.
